The Wisest Werewolf
by MarauderAudering
Summary: As far as the werewolf could remember there was no Marauder protocol for being chased by tornadoes./Its a rather normal evening in Gryffindor tower and only gets more typical when James and Sirius enter with a bit of a...problem on their head and heels.


Eleven year old Remus Lupin knew very well that when you were a Marauder weird things happened.

It was just a fact of his life, of all their lives.

It didn't matter if you caused it or if it happened to you, it just did and you just accepted it- and really, what else could you do?

No matter what it was or how strange it was you moved on, or else you'd just go insane.

Well, go more insane anyway. (They were the Marauders after all, insanity was a requirement for the title.)

So on that sunny Saturday afternoon Remus, who was working on his Charms essay in the common room while Peter slept next to him on the couch, his essay and books balanced in his lap, was not surprised when Sirius and James blew into the common room.

The two eldest Marauders had always had a strange enthusiasm for entering rooms, or doing most of anything, so that happened regularly, why would it surprise him?

Of course, usually when it occurred the blowing was meant figuratively, not literally.

If you judged by the swirling mass of dark wind circling James' head this time it _was_ real and _wasn't_ just word play. The werewolf could feel wind start up in the room and decided that this was probably happening.

The fact that he heard one of the lamps slide off a table and smash to the ground and that his Charms essay was ripped from his grasp and smacked into Peter's slackened face was also a bit of proof. Though he still wasn't quite sure whether it was happening in a very vivid dream or in reality, and he also decided that he'd really rather not know.

The various Gryffindors lounging about the common room had panicked, understandably, with most scattering out the door once the way was clear or heading up to the dormitories for safety, leaving book bags and everything else strewn about in their rush.

Remus though, he just sat, boggling, on the couch as James started to run a haphazard circle around the furniture, Sirius following right behind him.

He was puzzled by this, and rightfully so because James was sometimes dense enough to think he could outrun something attached to him but, as far as he remembered, Sirius had never been stupid enough to run towards what he was running away from.

Then again his memory _had_ never been all that great.

His confusion was only momentary though, as a miniature tornado roughly his size, whizzed in through the open portrait hole, chasing after the two ravens.

Though he was now _almost_ convinced that this really was happening- his dreams were usually weirder than this- Remus blinked.

And blinked again.

Just to be sure, he leaned over and smacked Peter lightly on the face, the parchment of his essay crinkling under his fingers. He sat back and waited a moment, eyes flicking between Peter and the two Marauders circling around the common room.

Peter continued to snore, but muttered a quiet, "Cheese?" in his sleep.

It was real.

In Remus' dreams sleeping Peter- who was featured strangely often actually- only talked about chocolate or, for whatever reason, furniture. Since cheese wasn't either one of those things that meant that this was terribly, terribly real.

_So what do I do about it then? _He wondered, reluctantly putting his quill down to think.

As far as the werewolf could remember there was no Marauder protocol for being chased by tornadoes. They'd covered what to do in case they were being chased by exploding pumpkins, purple Slytherins, Evans, raging Hippogriffs, and the occasional odd Nundu but never had it been mentioned what to do in case of stalker wind-storms.

The werewolf frowned, conflicted as he watched his friends scramble around. Leaping over an end table, cutting corners around an armchair and dashing by the fireplace Sirius threw a pleading look to his younger friend.

"Remus, Remus help me-ahh!"He fell then, and though he quickly righted himself and kept running, maybe even faster than before, he lost his shirt.

Sirius shrieked-"How dare you steal the clothes of _moi!"_- and Remus winced, turning away.

He would rather not see the Black try to fight a tornado thank you.

Remus spotted James, who had miraculously avoided tripping and slamming into things, even with his impaired vision, circling around the study tables and was just in time to watch him smash into the wall and fall to the ground, possibly unconscious.

Alright, _probably_ unconscious.

The last running Marauder then proceeded to trip over his best friends' feet in the middle of his 'tactical retreat' and lose his belt and pants before he started to run again.

Remus shrugged, began ignoring his friends and collected his delicately crumpled essay, continuing to write.

It _was_ due tomorrow after all.

* * *

><p>James' hair was never the same after that, and '<em>the Potter hair'<em>, quickly became famous for its 'naturally windswept look'. Sirius discovered that he didn't really mind being almost naked in public, Peter's studying habits were basically set for the rest of their Hogwarts years, and as for Remus?

He didn't really remember what had happened.

(Though he'd finished his Charms essay a week early.)

* * *

><p>Authors Note: I'm not really sure it just sorta happened and ...yeah. I attempted to edit this while ill and at two in the morning, so if there are obvious mistakes point them out for me, okay? So, review if you want to.<p> 


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